


The Unanticipated Arrival

by EventHorizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg gets some highly unexpected news and is not sure how to break it to the news's father... Mycroft Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unanticipated Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> In this world, certain males are lucky enough to be able to have babies... not that Greg is considering himself particularly lucky at the moment...

      “Are you sure?”

John shook his head and pointed at the relevant line on the paper detailing Lestrade’s test results.

      “How many pregnancy tests did you take before coming to see me?”

      “Four.”

      “And did they all say the same thing?”

      “Yeah.”

      “The same thing that is on the paper right here where it says Positive?”

      “Yeah.”

      “And you’re asking if I’m sure?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Have you gone mental?”

      “Yeah.”

The good doctor patted his friend’s shoulder and used the pat to push Lestrade down into a chair.

      “I take it this is a surprise.”

      “You have no idea.”

      “You weren’t planning for a family.”

      “The _surprise_ sort of argues against that, don’t you think?”

      “So… not that I’m judging… but protection wasn’t… something you considered.”

      “I’m a billion years old John and this is the first time I’ve gotten… I use protection.  Usually.”

      “It’s the ‘usually’ that’s the problem.”

      “I figured that out.”

      “What are you going to do?”

      “I… what do you mean?”

      “I can… make an appointment for you.  You’re early along and…”

      “No.  I mean… I don’t know.”

      “Ok, not a problem.  I suppose you want to discuss things with the father.  Is it… I don’t remember you talking about seeing anyone seriously, so…”

      “Don’t worry about it.  That’s my concern.”

John sighed and wished his friend wasn’t so stubborn.  It was hard enough being an older father, but being an older, _single_ father wasn’t going to be an easy path to tread.

      “If you share it, it’s easier to carry, though.”

Not this time.  Sharing this particular concern would actually make it grow.  Like he was going to do over the next several months…

      “I’m not going to pry, Greg, but if you want to talk, or you need anything, you know you can come to me, right?  Either of us, actually… Sherlock is a massive bastard sometimes, but he _does_ care and would gladly…”

      “I know, John.  And thanks.  I’m sure I’m going to need… I know this isn’t going to be easy.”

      “No, but this way you’ll have someone calling you Daddy, besides those young things you pull at the pub.”

      “Funny.  You watch too much porn.”

      “It passes the time.  And you should set up an appointment with an actual baby doctor sooner than later so they can start monitoring your progress.”

      “Anything I should worry about?”

      “Your age is a factor, but not a significant one.  I’ve seen parents of both genders start their families a little past their reproductive prime, but... it’s definitely something we medical types like to keep a closer eye on.”

Middle-aged, pregnant… what a winning combination.  Fortunately, the paternity benefits for the police were good and… no.  No thinking about what this little peanut’s father might be willing to contribute.  Or if he wanted to be part of their lives, at all…

__________

      “Ah, my dear.  I am so glad you could join me.”

Lestrade looked at the table, beautifully set, as it always was when Mycroft cooked dinner for them, and felt the knot in his chest alternately tighten and relax in a, frankly, frightening rhythm.

      “I never miss a chance to sample your cooking.  Or you, for that matter.”

Ok, his lover’s lips didn’t taste any different.  His skin felt the same, his body molded to his own form in exactly the same way it did two days ago when they’d last seen each other.  You wouldn’t think that everything about them had changed as of this morning.

      “And I delight in being sampled.  Do have a seat, I know you must be quite fatigued after your long day.”

And, as always, making sure he was comfortable and relaxed, even though Mycroft’s days were immeasurably longer and harder than his own.  The aloof, reserved exterior that kept people at arm’s length hid a warm, caring interior that only a very, very few got to see.  Now… the question was how deep did that feeling go and how far would it stretch…

      “It wasn’t that bad.  A lot of paperwork, mostly.”

      “Slaying paper dragons, however, can be a herculean task.  Here, let me pour for you some wine.”

Wine.  Alcohol.  Probably not on the approved list for someone in his… situation.

      “I’ll skip that tonight, if that’s ok.  I’ll probably just fall asleep on you, what with a long day of dragon slaying on my record.”

Maybe one day he’d get used to Mycroft’s giggle, but that certainly was not today.  The man was adorable when he laughed.

      “A wise choice, then.  I had hoped for a film after dinner, if that is agreeable to you?  A bit of William Powell to soothe your weary mind?”

And loved the same sort of films he loved.

      “That sounds great.”

      “I would ask, however… I know you have an early morning, but do you have intentions of staying the night?  I only inquire because… well, it is something _I_ have been anticipating today, as a balm to my own weary self.”

 _And_ desired him physically with a passion that would astound anyone who was lucky enough to find themselves in the big comfortable bed upstairs.  _He_ was that lucky, though… right now, he was the person who got to share that bed, and this table, and wonderful films and strolls in the moonlight… was it wrong to cross one’s toes and hope none of that would change when Mycroft got the news?  It wasn’t as if they were making plans, though… they’d only been seeing each other for six months, but it was regular.  And wonderful.  And the most special thing he’d ever experienced.  _And_ , they had, in a rather awkward conversation, agreed on exclusivity.  It was still secret, though, by both of their wishes.  Sherlock would be a nightmare if he knew and there might be work issues, but… their relationship wouldn’t be able to remain secret if… crap.  This was definitely going to be hard…

__________

      “This is great, love.  Really, you could have been a chef.”

      “I am so pleased you are enjoying it.  I have rarely had such a powerful urge to cook, but I will admit to taking great pleasure in the act, knowing you will share the meal with me.”

 Mycroft Holmes was the most romantic man in the world and nobody could tell him any different.

      “Then I’m happy to be an eager mouth to feed.”

Could that be an opening?  It _could_ if he made it one… it had to happen sometime…

      “I really enjoy being here, Mycroft.  I really enjoy being with you, no matter where we might be, actually.”

      “And I reciprocate the sentiment.  This has been joyful time for me, Gregory, one I treasure greatly.”

Ok, that was definitely an opening he could use…

      “I do, too.  Though… we’ve been seeing each other for awhile now and I was wondering if…”

Mycroft set down his fork and cast a worried eye at his lover.

      “Gregory, is there a problem?”

      “No!  No, no problem… I just wondered if this is good for you.  I mean, I _know_ it’s good, but is there anything else you want?  More that we can… do or explore or…”

      “If you are wondering if I am in any way dissatisfied with our relationship, my dear, then I can answer that most easily.  I am not.  I am, in all manner, satisfied and content with what he have grown.”

_Don’t use the word grown, if you’d be so kind._

      “But… is it enough for you?  Are there… other directions we could think about…”

      “I am _very_ happy with what we have, Gregory, and would not, for one instant, change a thing.  I find this the perfect situation, with, if I might be so bold, the perfect person to act as my partner in it.  Not a thing would I vary, for I cannot envision any change that would give me any greater happiness.”

Ok, that was all fantastic and heartfelt and the most amazing thing anyone had ever said to him and it was exactly the wrong thing.  The _worst_ thing to say.  If _this_ , right now, was what Mycroft wanted, then there was no way a baby was going to be something he’d embrace with open arms.  Wasn’t that exactly his luck?  Find a man who… they’d never used the word love, but you don’t always have to say something to know what you feel… so, find a man he loves and when they’d settled into something beautiful… he needed to think.  Think a _lot_ about what to do… and that thinking would need to happen quickly…

__________

      “Lestrade.”

      “Detective Inspector, how lovely it is to hear your voice.”

Mycroft!  Shit.  He’d done a great job of dodging the bureaucrat the past few days and the damn man doesn’t have the decency to acknowledge the dodging and just wait for a call!

      “Mycroft… hello.  What can I do for you?”

_Please don’t pause.  Please don’t notice that I just gave you the flattest, most boring greeting I’ve ever given you since you asked me out for dinner that magical night when I realized you were the most scintillating person I’d ever met._

      “Oh.  In truth, nothing, I simply wished to say hello.  We have not spoken these past several days and I desired the chance to share a bit of conversation.”

_Because Mycroft likes spending time with me, whether in person or over the phone.  Calls, sends texts, emails… even those little notes that appear in my mail that had to have been hand-delivered.  Not creepy, not possessive, just… attentive.  Stop being everything I ever wanted in a partner!  I don’t even know if I can keep you yet!_

      “That’s great.  Really, thanks.  I’ve been busy, barely had a moment to sleep.”

Which was actually true.  Between walking the streets all night trying to think about what he wanted for his future and the fact that the criminals had happily obliged his request to go off the chain and make work a chaotic nightmare, he had barely taken a moment to sleep.  So, not a lie… which would be unfair and disrespectful to the man who was probably waiting for him to keep going with the conversation.

      “But I can definitely take a few moments to talk to the sexiest man in London.”

      “Are you quite certain?  You _do_ sound fatigued… much as you did when last I saw you.”

      “I was fatigued because you shagged the life out of me!”

_After, of course, you shagged a life **into** me, but I’ll let that pass for the moment._

      “You _are_ feeling alright, are you not, my dear?  I do know there has been a monstrous flu running through the halls of government and I am quite certain it would happily leap into the police force given the chance.”

And if he had the flu, Mycroft would set him up in that big comfy bed, with tea and soup and hand-holding…

      “Nah, just a lot of work on top of little rest.  I’m fine.  Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?”

      “And that is relevant how?”

      “So I know what to imagine when I daydream a bit and strip every piece of clothing off of that beautiful boy.”

      “Well then, let us begin with my waistcoat.”

      “I plan to.”

__________

_Damn!  Do not send me an invitation to the theater, you bastard!  I know it’s one of my favorite playwrights and I mentioned wanting to see this production a month ago, but do you have to be so fucking considerate?  Can’t you think about my needs for once!  I need you far, far away from me so I can think!_

And thinking was so miserably hard… he’d never given any real thought to kids once he passed forty and wasn’t sure if he was ready for or wanted the complete upheaval a baby was going to bring to his life.  As it was, he was never certain when he’d even be home!  Called out at all hours, working all day and all night… where was a baby going to fit into that schedule?  He’d probably have to apply for a purely administrative job and… that wasn’t what he wanted.  He’d never wanted to be one of those assess in chairs that sat in their offices and never saw daylight until they left for home.

On the other hand, he’d done a lot of walking and observing these past few days and had to admit that when he sat and watched the families with their children… he felt something.  That could be him out there with his little girl, showing her how to kick a football.  Or a little boy who was trying to use the swings to launch himself into orbit.  He would get to teach them to read, watch them grow… no question they’d be brilliant because… well, Mycroft _was_ brilliant and he wasn’t an idiot, either.  Mycroft’s mind and his determination.  They both didn’t shy away from hard work and had instincts and talents that would mix up marvelously in a little bundle of joy.  Even if Mycroft wasn’t there physically to help him bring up their kid, his genes would be there, helping make that kid a force to be reckoned with.  Someone to really make a difference in the world.  The best of both of them… he really believed that.  And he wasn’t going to lie and say that his heart didn’t give a leap when he sat and thought about the tiny life growing inside of him.  He needed to get this sorted in his head.  Figure out exactly what he wanted and if… when… he should tell Mycroft.  Theater tickets weren’t helping with that.  Not helping at all…

__________

      “Ah, I see.”

      “I’m very sorry, but with my workload right now, I can’t guarantee I’ll be free and that’s not fair to you.  And even if I am, I’d probably start snoring in the middle of the performance and get us kicked out.”

      “You are still experiencing fatigue?”

      “Don’t worry about it, love.  Give me… a week or two to push through these cases and we’ll do something together.”

      “May I, at least, provide you with a meal tonight?  I would very much like to see you and would be happy to prepare something special to reward your hard work.”

_Being perfect isn’t making this easier, Mycroft!_

      “Not tonight, if that’s ok.  I’m up to my ears right now and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to leave.  Let’s look to something at the end of the week.  How does that sound?”

      “Heavenly.  And Gregory, do let me know if there is anything I might do to lessen your obligations.  I know I am prohibited from taking any action to directly affect your working conditions…”

Which had prompted another awkward conversation after he’d magically gotten a new computer in his office when everyone else was staggering along with their adding machines…

      “… however, any other steps I might take, I will gladly enact.”

Caring, considerate, devoted… but would that reach far enough to include another person?  Mycroft’s life was more hectic than his!  And that house… not something anyone in their right mind would call child-friendly.  _He_ was scared to look wrong at the knick knacks for fear they’d shatter and he’d be apologizing for breaking something that cost his yearly wage.  Imagine a little ball of fire running around…

      “I know, Mycroft and I appreciate it.  I promise to let you know, ok?”

      “Excellent.  I shall pass along our tickets to a colleague and begin looking ahead for another evening of culture for us to enjoy.”

      “Sounds great.  Look, I have to go.  I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

      “Of course.  Do have a pleasant day, Gregory.  I… I shall be thinking of you.”

_AAARRRGGGGHHH!!!!_

      “Me too, Mycroft.  Bye.”

_Thinking about you until I can’t think anymore…_

__________

      “Gregory…”

      “I know I said we could get together soon, but… it’s really not a good time.”

      “I appreciate your commitment to your work, my dear, and understand fully how such work can consume vast quantities of time, but… you must find some relaxation soon or your health will suffer!”

      “My health’s not going to suffer, love.  Did yours when you went off for those three weeks and came back fairly indistinguishable from a zombie?”

      “That is beside the point.  You are not me and I do not want to see your health compromised when you could delegate…”

      “My health is fine!  John would have said something if…”

_Oops._

      “What?  Gregory, did you see John in his professional capacity?”

      “No.”

_Yes._

      “I just… met him for coffee this morning and he would have said something if he noticed something wrong, wouldn’t he?  I can’t imagine that if I was saggy and feeble, John would have missed the signs.  You’re overreacting, love.  I appreciate the concern, I really do, but it’s just a busy time and it’s taking a lot out of me.  I don’t want to ruin a nice night because I can’t keep my eyes open or have to cancel because something came up.”

      “As I have had to do to you on numerous occasions?”

_Stop being rational!_

      “Mycroft… I’m begging you, don’t worry about this.  Just give me a few days…”

      “I _did_ and still you are significantly out of sorts.”

_Definitely stop being so wonderful!_

      “And that’s why, when I finish here, I’m going to go straight home and right to bed.”

      “If you, instead, detoured to _my_ bed, I could ensure you received proper rest and… are you even eating well?  Please, Gregory… I am terribly worried about you.”

_What part of ‘stop being so wonderful’ didn’t you understand!  Don’t you have any idea how hard this is!  I want nothing more than to do exactly what you’re asking, but how much  harder is it going to be when you… when we part ways because who we are won’t be the same anymore and that’s not what you want for us… but this hiding away isn’t fair to you.  And it’s breaking me…_

      “I know you are and I… that makes me very happy.  Just a couple of days, Mycroft and I’ll have everything tidied up. All the loose ends will be tied together and we’ll have a nice evening together.  Maybe a couple of evenings.  I’ll let you know when I’m free, but only a couple of days more.  I promise.

Because this had to end, one way or another and if a deadline wasn’t set… the downhill slide was going to turn into an avalanche and bury them both.

__________

_Oh, What a Beautiful Day…_

_And Sherlock’s at the Morgue…_

_So John the Mouse Will Play…_

_Blah Blah Something that Rhymes with Morgue…_

The sun was actually shining, the air was surprisingly clean… John had the whole day ahead of him without a care in the world.  No clinic work, no case, no Sherlock… nice, slow round of errands and maybe an hour or so of reading in a lovely park with birds singing, the wind blowing… big dark sedans idling in wait.

Alright, this was London.  London was full of big, dark sedans.  Lots.  Scads.  Just because one was waiting up ahead did not mean he was being Summoned.  Because today was a pleasant day and Mycroft bloody Holmes was not going to commit a Summoning and spoil things.  Not allowed.  A quick turn down this side street wouldn’t take him far off course and a few extra minutes of walking was actually welcome on a gorgeous day like this.  Except when there was _another_ dark sedan lying smugly in wait.  And probably a entire fleet more to cover every possible escape route away from here.  Perfect.  Bastard probably arranged this beautiful day just so he could ram a pike through it as a joke…

__________

      “Ah, John.  Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”

      “Politeness won’t stop me punching you, Mycroft.”

      “I do so enjoy your little jokes.  Please, have a seat.”

John considered signaling his refusal with a finger or two, then decided the quickest way to get on with his day was to let Mycroft put on his little show and clap at the appropriate moments.

      “Excellent, thank you, John.”

      “What do want, Mycroft?  If there’s something you want Sherlock to do, just tell him yourself, will you?  I’m not your messenger service.”

      “This is not about Sherlock.”

No, obviously not.  That was not at all the tone Mycroft used when talking about his brother.

      “Ok.  Then what?”

Mycroft sighed heavily and John began to take the discussion a bit more seriously.

      “John… I would like to speak with you about Gregory.”

      “Who?”

      “Gregory Lestrade.”

      “Greg!  Oh… right.  Why do you want to talk about Greg?”

      “I am of the opinion that… he has sought your professional counsel for a matter and I… am concerned for his welfare.”

Were the alarm klaxons he was hearing real or just in his head?  John waited a few seconds for an armed battalion to storm into Mycroft’s office and, when that didn’t happen, turned his attention back to the matter at hand.  Which was alarming enough on its own.

      “Ok… I thought… well, I knew you knew who Greg was but… well, I suppose you _would_ keep an eye on anyone associated with Sherlock and take an interest if you thought it might affect…”

      “Gregory and I… we have been involved for a number of months and my interest in him is something very significant and highly personal.”

Involved?  Oh.  _Oh_ … oh no.  Oh no no no no no…

      “ _You_ and Greg?  I… had no idea.”

      “We made the decision that our relationship would be better conducted out of sight of… excitable… eyes, for the time being.  But, you understand now my concern.  Something is wrong, John, and Gregory will not speak of it.  He has been distancing himself from me, is chronically fatigued… I gave him my solemn word that I would not monitor his workplace or residence, however, that word did not extend to the area outside the walls of his place of work or home.  The computer in his office has accessed certain websites that trouble me greatly… he is researching areas of medical leave and benefits.  Please, John… he will not speak with me, but I know he has consulted with you.  I am terribly worried and can do nothing for him; you must tell me what is the matter so I might… anything I can do to help, I will.  I just need to _know_.”

John had, in the past, barely seen a glimmer of real emotion in the man he was facing, but now, every part of Mycroft was screaming an unsettling mixture of fear and worry.

_Fact 1 – Mycroft and Greg were in a relationship._

_Fact 2 – Mycroft took that relationship very seriously._

_Fact 2 – Mycroft was almost certainly the father of Greg’s baby._

_Fact 3 – Mycroft didn’t know he was the father of Greg’s baby._

_Fact 4 – Greg was a moron._

      “Mycroft… I don’t know what you want me to do.  If, and I do mean _if_ , Greg spoke to me about anything while I was acting as his doctor, you know I can’t talk about it.”

      “Then you admit to a consultation.”

      “No, I didn’t say that.  I just said that if we _did_ have a chat, I couldn’t reveal what was said.  Simple reminder of confidentiality.”

      “Then speak to me as his friend.  There is something wrong, John.  Please… I have access to resources you can scarcely imagine and all of them will be made available to him for his care.  You simply need to say the word.  I cannot… I feel for him too deeply to allow him to endure this alone.”

This was wrong… this whole business was just wrong.  Mycroft was suffering, that much was obvious.  Mycroft cared and that was, also, obvious.  What was _wrong_ with Greg?  Not that he was going to let the thought of Sherlock’s brother and the police detective doing what it took to _create_ a baby take root in his mind or he’d be running down the street, screaming in terror, but this was certainly not a casual fling that Mycroft might be hoping to forget.  Not something that might lead to bad things if the older Holmes found out the truth.  At barest minimum, John had no doubt that Mycroft would financially support his child, but, looking again at the distraught man waiting for his response, he also had no doubt that the barest minimum was _not_ what that child would receive.  Greg, the tosser, needed to drag his head out of his arse very soon or he might end up hurting someone who and ruining something which could be very good for him and his baby.

      “Look, Mycroft… you need to talk to Greg.  I’m going to come out and admit that I _can’t_ say anything, for what that’s worth to you.  You need to talk to him if you want answers.”

A sharp flare of distress erupted on Mycroft’s face, followed quickly by some measure of resignation and a tiny mote of relief from finally having some answer to his questions.

      “I see.  Can you… is there _anything_ you can tell me?  The last time we met, he appeared hale, though fatigued…”

      “It’s too soon to really notice anything.  We caught this early and…”

Shit.  That was too close to the line.  Miserable copper… Greg was going to owe him twenty pints for this.  When he was able to drink again, that is, in about seven months.

      “Thank you.  I understand you are bound by your professional ethics and I will not ask you to compromise that further.  Further, I apologize for taking such imperious action in bringing you here.  I simply… I care for him.  More, perhaps, than I have ever expressed and I cannot bear the thought… I will not see him suffer without every measure being taken to bring him back to health.”

      ‘I believe you, Mycroft.  For what it’s worth, I really do think you will be exactly what he needs right now.  Just… try to… he’s going through a lot and maybe not thinking clearly.  Don’t pressure him, but, do try and get him to talk to you.  I’ll keep this conversation just between us, because I don’t want him to think he’s being hounded, but if there’s anything I can do to encourage him, I will.”

      “I appreciate your efforts and your time, John. Do enjoy the remainder of your day.”

Mycroft smiled what John recognized as a completely false smile and the doctor simply nodded and left the room, knowing there would be a car waiting to take him wherever he wanted to go.

_Oh, What a Beautiful Day…_

_Uncle Sherlock’s Going to Sulk…_

_Nappies and Toys to Buy…_

_Time to Shop in Bulk…_

__________

Mycroft watched John leave and took a long moment to compose himself.  His Gregory… the only person who had ever broken through his defenses and earned the love he never, ever believed he would give to another human being.  Such a foolish, ridiculous, brave man… trying to keep secret his illness, trying to continue on valiantly at his work.  Of course Gregory was keeping distance between them… his dear, dear love would try to shield him from the harsh reality of his condition, because he was a courageous and considerate man who did not, in any manner, deserve the cards that Fate had dealt him.  _Caught this early_ … that was a very telling phrase and he would silently thank John for breaking the news, even couched in the vagaries necessary to protect his honor as a professional.  By this afternoon he would have information on every possible treatment and every respectable clinic dedicated to the treatment of cancer or heads would be floating down the Thames…

__________

Ok, this was getting ridiculous.  Mycroft had called three times and he’d let it ring every time.  A Detective Inspector of the finest police force in the world and he was hiding under his desk every time the phone rang in case Mycroft had found some way to do a full-body scan of him through the vibrations of his mobile.  Time to step up and do what needed to be done.  Just face Mycroft, tell him the news and remember when he left to get that tie he left behind last time because he was not going to be setting foot in Mycroft’s house ever again.  Time for a phone call of his own…

      “Gregory, my dear… how good it is to hear from you.”

      “Hello, love.  Sorry I’ve been off the radar for awhile, but I was wondering… are you free tomorrow night?  If not, I understand, of course, but I thought we could get together and spend a little time catching up with things.  How does that sound?”

It would involve a rather delicate reshuffling of his calendar, but he _would_ welcome his Gregory into his home tomorrow night and, hopefully, guide him into making the confession that would open the door for them to work together for his love’s care and treatment.  Gregory would not navigate this disheartening and debilitating process alone; not so long as Mycroft Holmes lived and breathed.

      “Like all of my dreams come true.  A quiet evening or something more invigorating?”

      “Something low-key, I think.  I’m sure… we’ll have lots to talk about, what with how busy I’ve been.”

      “I am certain we shall.  A lovely dinner and a suitable selection of soothing music?  It has been an age, it seems, since we danced and I greatly miss taking you in my arms for a dance.”

Dancing with Mycroft… almost as good with sex as Mycroft, and that was saying something.  Also, fitting… last dance, last kiss…

      “Perfect.  About seven?”

      “I eagerly await your arrival.  Gregory… it shall be very good to see you.”

      “I can’t wait.  Until tomorrow, love.”

Lestrade terminated the call and took a moment to still his trembling hands.  He’d half hoped Mycroft had an unexpected, lengthy trip to the Kremlin or something and they’d have to put his off until next year sometime.  Peanut would be out and giggling by then and that might actually make this a little easier.  If their baby had Mycroft’s giggle, how could his lover ever turn him away?  Not even Mycroft could resist the Mycroft giggle… it was like a superpower…

__________

_Fluff the hair a little, straighten the shirt, run tongue over teeth to check smoothness… good to go.  Ready or not, Mycroft, here I come._

      “Ah, Gregory.  How wonderful it is to have you here.”

Lestrade stepped into Mycroft’s open arms and melted with the kiss he’d been trying not to anticipate since he got off the phone yesterday.  This felt so right, so purely right and absolutely flawless.  How flawless would it be, however, when his stomach was spread out in front of him like an ale barrel?  And Mycroft just _had_ to hold him like a precious treasure long after the kiss ended, didn’t he?  Miserable fucker making him feel like the most special man to have ever lived.  Not one nod to his inner pain, not a single one at all…

      “Someone missed me.”

      “It has been agony to be parted from you, Gregory.  Perhaps it is unseemly of me to so greatly desire your company, but I do and cannot find it in my heart to apologize for the fact.  Come in… I have a lovely beverage prepared and chilling in preparation.”

And why did Mycroft have to be so romantic and walk with him, arm in arm, to the dining room?  Evil man.

      “You always set such a gorgeous table, love.  I feel like I should be in a tuxedo when I sit down for dinner.”

      “One of my little joys in life.  I await with bated breath my first opportunity to prepare a picnic basket and lay out for you a repast under the clear blue sky.”

      “That sounds fantastic.  Day out in the country, away from the noise and people…”

Where his Gregory could breathe clean air, enjoy some rest in a low-stress environment, take gentle exercise and recuperate from whatever therapies were enacted for his treatment and recovery…

      “I hoped you would approve of the idea.  And here, let me pour you a beverage.  A little something to further turn our minds towards sunny skies and pleasant times.”

      “Ummm… I’m trying to cut down on the alcohol right now…”

      “Then aren’t you a lucky boy that not an iota can be found in my elixir.”

Which contained, instead, juice from a variety of fruits heavily touted for their antioxidant benefits, natural, unprocessed sweeteners, and a few other additives advised for health and vigor.

      “Oh.  Well then… wow, this is good!  Nice and sweet and fruity.”

      “I decided something light and refreshing would be an appropriate start to our meal.”

      “Well, mission accomplished.  This definitely hits the spot.”

      “And I have just begun to woo you with my culinary talents.”

      “Feel free to continue at any time.”

      “That is most certainly my intention.”

__________

      “This is a different route for you.  Got a new cookbook you wanted to try out?”

      “Rather, a desire to leave us energized and ready for our night of dancing.”

And the nice fish prepared with olive oil, garlic and lemon, the steamed vegetables with a light tomato-based glaze, the spinach salad with seeds and nuts and a quick splash of peppery-orange dressing, whole-grain bread and avocado sorbet for afters was perfect for someone in his lover’s condition.  The doctors might tend to many aspects of Gregory’s care, but he would do everything possible in their personal life, to support the health and well-being of the man he loved.

      “Well, it looks delicious.  And… god, it tastes delicious, too.  It’s no wonder Sherlock gets his knickers in a twist about you, jealous little tyke.  I know he can’t cook like this.  John couldn’t even look at a bowl of rice for a week after Sherlock decided to experiment in the kitchen.”

_No, don’t giggle, love.  Peanut, you see that?  That’s exactly what I was talking about.  If you do that, you’re going to be the most spoiled baby in the world because I can’t resist your father when he does it and I won’t be able to resist you, either.  Use your superpowers for good, ok?  Take pity on your poor, old, single dad and let him have his way once awhile._

      “Sherlock is possessed of many talents, but kitchen skills are not part of his current portfolio.”

      “And I’m happy for it.  Two great cooks in the family would be an embarrassment of riches.”

      “The pomposity of which could not be borne by the nation.”

      “Not at all.  Lucky me, I’ve got a standing invitation to this table so I can enjoy the lack of pomposity.”

      “And you do, my dear.  You are forever welcome… and I hope that you might consider, at some point, making your presence a more frequent and regular occurrence.”

Lestrade let his grin spread wide and called it a traitor with a pinch on his thigh added for punishment.

      “Looking for a little extra company?”

_Looking for you to share my home so I may keep a closer eye on your progress, my dear.  And so I may demonstrate every day how deeply I care for you, such as I have since nearly the first day we met._

      “As long as that company is you, you have my heartfelt agreement.”

__________

A cool drink, a delicious meal, some relaxing piece of music filling the room and Mycroft’s arms around his shoulders as they danced… he couldn’t ask for a better goodbye…

      “I would enjoy this every night with you if I could, Gregory.  With you can I divest myself of the necessary barriers I erect to conduct my business and allow the deeper parts of myself to crawl out and snatch light that only your smile can bring.”

And those words would stay right at the front of his brain so he could replay them again and again during the rough days to come.  Your father is a very romantic man, little bun...

      “And don’t think that doesn’t mean something to me, Mycroft, because it does.  I never thought I’d find someone like you, love and… it’s good to know I bring something to your life, too.”

      “You bring _life_ to my life, Gregory.  I have devoted myself solely to service for all my years and now… now I can share that devotion with someone I… I hope shall remain with me a very long time and accept the devotion I offer.”

_Ouch!  Don’t punch me in the heart, you bastard!  But thanks for the opening I was hoping you’d give me at some point…_

      “I know what our relationship means to you, love.  It means so much to me, too.  But… here, let’s sit for a few minutes.  We need talk.”

_‘We need to talk,’ such a ghastly phrase.  But thank you, my dear, for the opening I was hoping would appear at some point in our conversation…_

      “Of course, Gregory.  Whatever you desire.”

Mycroft took Lestrade’s arm again and led him to the sofa, settling them both on the cushions and not liking at all that his lover shifted slightly to put some distance between them.

      “Mycroft… look, I need to be honest with you.  There’s a reason I haven’t been as available to you as I normally am, besides work, I mean, and… I need to talk about something with you that’s not… I don’t really know what you’re going to think, but… shit, this is hard… um… I care for you, Mycroft.  I care a lot and I would be happy if we could be together for that very long time you mentioned, but… I don’t know if we can because… you see, there’s something you don’t know and… shit… I’m not sure how to say this…”

Mycroft took Lestrade’s slightly-flailing hands in his own and stilled them, using his smile, in an attempt to quiet the rest of his agitated lover.

      “Gregory, please, you must be calm.  Stress is not beneficial to you at this time.  Let me take up the thread of your discourse, if I may.”

Lestrade narrowed his eyes at his partner and cautiously nodded for him to continue.

      “I have been aware that there was some ancillary motive for your absence in my home.  You did not hide that fact very successfully and… I took it upon myself to determine what I could of the situation.  I… I spoke to John, my dear.  Do you understand?”

      “W…what?”

      “I had a conversation with John and, now, better understand your behavior than I did previously.”

Mycroft held Lestrade’s hands more tightly, seeing his lover’s widened, slightly panicked eyes.

      “No.  No!  John would _not_ say anything!  He would never talk about a pat… me without my consent!”

      “And he did not, at least not with any concrete detail.  Do not distress yourself, Gregory; your friend did not betray you, but it was not difficult to create a picture from the crumbs he is likely unaware that he dropped.  You must admit that is a skill I possess in abundance and utilize to very good advantage.”

      “You… you know?”

      “I do and I understand why you were hesitant to tell me.”

      “You do?”

      “Absolutely.  And, although I know it was, perhaps, presumptuous to make arrangements prior to this conversation, I want you to know, to be _assured_ that matters are already in hand to manage this situation.”

Mycroft had no idea why Lestrade’s shock and confusion made a small slide into wariness, but given the cacophony of emotions his lover was experiencing, it should not really be a great surprise.

      “ _Manage_ the situation?”

      “You have nothing about which to worry, Gregory.  I have already on alert the best possible clinics in the world dedicated to eradicating your condition.”

Lestrade ripped his hands out of Mycroft’s grasp and stared at him in profoundly offended disbelief.

      “Eradicating!”

      “I know it shall not be pleasant for you, but I shall be with you every step of the way.  Whatever I can do to alleviate your pain and bolster your spirits, I shall do.  You are not alone in this, Gregory.  I will be by your side every moment and this will exist as nothing by a footnote in our history.  You shall see a fresh and unencumbered future ahead of you and we shall carry on as if this terrible business never happened.”

Lestrade hoped the red he was seeing was his brain exploding and bleeding into his eye sockets.  How _dare_ he?  How dare that fucking bastard suggest…

      “Are you… are you saying you want to send me to some… clinic somewhere and have them… oh god, I can’t even say it…”

      “Do not attempt to shield me from the harsh truths of your condition and its treatment, Gregory.  I want you to share your burden with me, so that…”

      “Burden!”

      “I know you do not want to think of it in that manner and I am dedicated to doing everything possible to make it so that it is not such a thing.”

      “You’re planning on shipping me off somewhere so what… your posh friends don’t find out about your little… secret!”

Mycroft drew back from Lestrade’s spitting anger and wished his skill repertoire was slightly better provided with abilities in deciphering and handling the extreme emotions and hysterical thoughts of his partner, but that would simply have to grow with time. Right now… he was, as they say, on his own.

      “Not at all, Gregory… not at all.  I simply had investigated the best possible locations for your procedures and will discuss with you their various attributes so you may make the choice that suits you best.  All of them, each and every one, is known for treating not only your condition, but for working valiantly to preserve your dignity.  You must maintain a positive outlook, my dear, to see the swiftest and most successful recovery.  Then it shall be as if this entire situation never existed and we shall again be able to enjoy the relationship we are cultivating and the life… the life we are crafting between us.”

      “That’s the most fucking hypocritical thing I have ever heard!”

      “What?  I do not understand.  Gregory, I only want what is best for you…”

      “I’ve already decided what’s best for me, thank you very much and you are not… how dare you try and force me to…”

      “Gregory… calm yourself!  This is not good for your health!”

      “Why do you care?  Might do your dirty work for you, you bastard!”

Lestrade leapt off of the sofa and Mycroft followed quickly grabbing the DI’s arms tightly to keep him from running away.

      “Let go of me!”

      “Not until you quiet yourself!  I have no idea what has gotten into you, but…”

      “I am not going to… I’m keeping our baby, Mycroft Holmes, and you are _not_ going to stop me!”

Lestrade yanked his arms out of Mycroft’s grip and began to storm away until he realized that not only was he not being followed, Mycroft seemed to have frozen in place like a marble statue.

      “Mycroft?  _Mycroft_?”

      “What… what did you say?”

His partner’s voice sounded soft and slightly deranged and Lestrade’s fury ebbed a bit from the worry he’d somehow broken the British government.

      “The baby… I’m keeping it.  I know you don’t want it, Mycroft.  I know you’re happy with what we have now and don’t want that to change, but I can’t… I’ve thought about it a lot and I want this child.  I have no idea how I’ll manage and I’m too old for something like this and I know… I _know_ it means the end of us and that hurts so badly I can’t begin to describe it, but… I’m not giving up our baby.  I can’t.  I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

      “A baby?”

      “Uh… yes?”

      “You are with child?”

      “Why are you asking me that?”

      “Our child?  _My_ child?”

      “Mycroft, are you ok?  Do I need to call a doctor?”

      “You are not… you do not have cancer?”

      “What?  No!  _Oh_ …. oh, Mycroft.  Where did you get that idea?”

Now, Lestrade’s rage was flowing out like water through an open dam. The stupid man.  The stupid, foolish, spectacular man…

      “I… after speaking with John…”

      “I think your crumbs picture failed you a little.”

      “Yes, I suppose it did.  Gregory… you are pregnant?”

      “That goes with the having a baby thing, yes.  I guess… you know we got a bit _eager_ sometimes and sort of forgot about proper precautions.  I didn’t plan this, love.  I would never do that to you and I know you’re happy with us just as we are but… where are you going?”

_Apparently to his knees to rest his head against my belly.  Dear, dear Mycroft… I think you might be starting to like this idea…_

      “I _am_ happy with what we have built, my most cherished darling…”

_My what?_

      “… but I have for a long time desired you to be a larger part of my life.  A deeper and more permanent part and, hoped that, perhaps, in time… you would want such from me, also.  A child, Gregory… we are having a baby…”

And now his partner was rubbing his cheek against… no, lifting the shirt and laying little kisses against the skin and murmuring things that were, apparently, only for the peanut’s not-yet-formed ears.  Welcoming their child right after professing… well, they’d still never used the specific, precise word, so one of them should probably be a man about it and just speak up.

      “I love you, Mycroft.  And if you’re actually offering to… explore something more… committed…”

      “You will come and live with me, will you not?  Or, we might begin a search for a new residence that is more to your liking.”

      “I… well, that’s something we can talk about…”

      “If you prefer, of course, we may retain separate residences until the wedding.”

      “W…wedding?”

      “Hmmmm…”

_Stop nuzzling my belly you prat!  You can’t propose and then just keep… oh, that does feel nice, though…_

      “Mycroft, do you want to get off the floor?”

      “Must I?”

      “If we want to take this into the bedroom, then yes.”

      “Ah, you make a compelling argument.”

      “Then come on… I think a celebration is in order, don’t you.”

      “I most certainly do.  I am experiencing nearly a primal urge to demonstrate to you in a very tangible fashion exactly the depth and breadth of the love I feel for you.”

      “That sounds adventurous.”

      “Do you approve?”

      “Until the doctor tells me otherwise, I highly approve.”

Mycroft stood and took Lestrade in a long, toe-curling kiss.

      “I love you, Gregory.  And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the family we have begun to create.”

      “I love you, too, Mycroft.  And I thank you for wanting that family as much as I do.”

      “Now, a bit of adventure?”

      “First one to the bedroom gets to choose the position.”

      “Only one?”

      “For the first round, then we switch up.”

      “How well we work together.  We shall be stellar parents.”

      “I think… hey!  That’s cheating!”

Lestrade chased after Mycroft, who had darted off, laughing joyfully and making finger gestures Lestrade was shocked the formal and proper man actually knew.

_There’s your father, peanut, the ruler of the free world.  We’ll see how he’s laughing when he’s tied to the bed.  Ok, forget I said that… you’re too young to know what your father and your dad do after you go to bed at night… sometimes, I think I’m too young, too.  Your father’s a randy bastard, but I love him madly…_

____________  
  
_Seven exciting, turbulent months, two exchanged rings, sixty-four nanny interviews and a short holiday for a post-announcement Sherlock later…_

      “He is beautiful, Gregory.  Our son is a beautiful, remarkable boy.  Though you are still the most exquisite man on whom I have ever laid eyes.”

Mycroft kissed his sweat-drenched, exhausted husband’s forehead and added another for the newborn in said husband’s arms.

      “He’s got everything, right?”

      “All fingers and toes are present and accounted for.”

      “Did the doctor say…”

      “Our darling son has proudly taken after you, my dear.  One day, we shall be outside a birthing room waiting for our son to bear his own child.”

      “Grandfathers… I already have the hair for it.”

      “You shall be the most virile and vivacious grandfather London has ever known.”

      “And you’ll be the sexiest, most brilliant grandfather the world has ever seen.  Have you spread the news yet?  I sort of lost track of things for a moment there and it could be tomorrow for all I know.”

      “Not yet.  I am finding it exceedingly difficult to leave your side at this moment.”

Lestrade motioned Mycroft down to take another kiss and felt tears well up in his eyes at the sheer amount of love his husband could express in that simple act.

      “Sherlock will be in here in a minute if you don’t.  We did promise he could take baseline measurements for Peanut’s growth and development.”

      “Gregory… our son is not named Peanut.”

      “He will be if I get my hands first on the birth certificate.”

      “Which would somehow disappear from the official records and a replacement installed in its stead.”

      “You’re no fun.”

      “Alexander Edward Lestrade-Holmes will, however, thank me.”

      “Not after he’s had to write that a few times on his school forms.  Poor thing’s fingers will fall right off.”

One small nibble of incredibly tiny fingers highlighted Lestrade’s point.

      “I shall buy for him a stamp and pad of ink.”

      “Your father has all the answers, Peanut.  You’ll learn that about him.

      “Your dad is a terribly stubborn man, Alexander.  You shall learn that about him.”

      “Quick kiss and then we let the hand-wringers in?”

      “That is probably wise.”

The quick kiss lasted longer than ‘quick’ accurately describes, and it still required a massive act of will for Mycroft to pry himself away from his husband and son to announce the birth to the friends and family that were anxiously awaiting the news.

      “He _does_ have all the answers, Alex.  Your father is the smartest, kindest, most loving man you’ll ever meet and if there is one thing you can always count on, it’s that he loves you with everything in him and will do anything in his power to keep you safe and make you happy.”

Lestrade looked into the small blue eyes of the child in his embrace and smiled tiredly.  His son was perfect.  His husband was perfect.  Their family was perfect.  It hadn’t been easy, but everything he’d been through was absolutely worth it.  They had a wonderful life ahead of them and he couldn’t more thankful for it.

      “I demand a sample of the afterbirth.”

Damned thankful… not everyone had a plush-bunny-wielding Sherlock in their lives to keep things interesting…

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know how our boys would fare if Mycroft was the one carrying a bundle of joy, feel free to take a peek at [The Bonds of Family](http://archiveofourown.org/works/917965)


End file.
